


it's been a really, really messed up week

by jj_blues



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Gen, Good Sibling Cassandra Cain, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Jason Todd Swears, POV Outsider, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29328105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_blues/pseuds/jj_blues
Summary: "Maybe he's just having a bad week?""Let me get this straight. He offered me cookies, and berated you for drinking coffeebecausehe's been havin' a bad week?" Jason scrunched his nose. "Make it make sense, Timbo."_or; Damian is acting weird. Tim, and Jason are (lowkey) freaking out.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 54
Kudos: 616





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Hot Chelle Rae's Tonight Tonight.

Tim staggered up the Manor, careful not to trip on his feet. He took a deep breath, and tightened his grip around his coffee cup. Okay. He could do this. His room wasn't that far. It was only like on the third floor. Yep. He could do this. Nodding to himself, he placed a foot in front of him. 

The world spun. 

Oh, well. Guess he couldn't do this after all. Sleeping in the hallway again, it is. Hopefully Alfred wouldn't be too disappointed in him tomorrow. 

He was seconds away from welcoming the smooth marble floor when small hands grabbed his shirt, stopping him from face-planting. He felt himself be guided towards...somewhere? Christ, he knew he shouldn't have left his phone in the Cave. 

Bright light filled his vision. He hissed, throwing his hands up to cover his face. 

"Timothy." The voice sounded amused. "Calm down. We're in the kitchen." 

"Ugh, what?" 

He blinked. His vision began to focus. Familiar green eyes stared back at him. 

He jolted, suddenly more awake now. Inwardly, he was cursing himself for letting his guard down around the demon brat, Christ, how could he be so stupid? He was lucky the brat didn't feel like he wanted to be a homicidal megalomaniac tonight. Hell, he'd even helped him up - 

Tim froze. He backtracked to what he'd just thought. _What._

He narrowed his gaze at the brat. The brat crossed his arms over his chest, looking so high and mighty - 

Nope, Tim didn't have time for this. The brat could mock him all he wanted later, when he'd already got enough sleep... 

Wait, the brat was saying something. 

" - had enough coffee, Tim - er, Drake. How many times do we have to tell you?" In one swift motion, the brat reached forward to grab the cup from Tim's hands. Tim could only stare at him, mind suddenly blank. "Get some sleep. You look like Death had warmed you over." 

Damian shook his head in what Tim, had he been in his right mind (aka not running on three hours of sleep in three days, and practically twenty-five cups of coffee), could only classify as fond exasperation, before the brat turned on his heel, placed the cup in the sink, and disappeared out the door. 

Tim continued to stare after him, mouth hanging open. 

_ 

Jason slipped inside the window with the grace, and accuracy of someone who'd been slipping inside the windows of Wayne Manor instead of using the front door like a normal person for half of their life. Whistling to himself, he made his way upstairs to stop by Tim's room to check up on what the hell kind of drugs he's been on. 

(The Replacement had called him yesterday, almost hysterical, when Jason was on a stake-out. He'd claimed Damian had been kidnapped or some shit, and replaced by someone who wasn't a homicidal megalomaniac. The evidence? The demon brat had apparently stopped Replacement from face-planting in the middle of the hallway, and had berated him about drinking too much coffee. Jason would've believed Timmy if he took a video of it as, well, actual proof, but since there was no video, he wasn't gonna believe him. Timmers had then suggested they meet up at his room to discuss what the fuck had happened with Damian, to which Jason agreed because he had no choice, and if Tim continued ranting any longer Black Mask's thugs would discover his location. Privately, Jason thought the Replacement had gone a bit _loco_ with all the coffee he'd been consuming.) 

He peeked inside the room. It was empty. Jason growled. Bitch. See if he helps Timbo out again. But because he's already here and he really wasn't in the mood to call the Replacement and look for him, he might as well help himself to Alfred's cookies. 

Upon arriving at the kitchen, he patted his pistol to make sure it was still there because, you know, in case things went wrong - 

And promptly froze at the sight of Damian sitting on top of the island counter. 

( _"Evidence,"_ a voice which sounds suspiciously like Timbo screeched in his mind. 

_"Shut up,"_ he told it.) 

"Todd," the demon brat greeted. Jason watched him push himself off the counter, free hand gripping a small box of - 

_Were those Alfred's cookies?_

As if reading his mind, the brat stopped in front of him. "Here." He pushed the container towards Jason. Jason instinctively seized it. "Be careful out there, Todd. Also, I'm sure Pennyworth, and Father would appreciate it if you'd drop by the Manor for Sunday brunch." He patted Jason's arm, then walked off. 

( _"See?!"_ Timmers hissed. _"I told you!"_ ) 

Dumbstruck, Jason blinked at the box of cookies. He could still feel Damian's small palm patting his arm. Okay, what the hell? 

_ 

Normally, Dick would be ecstatic (not really ecstatic, because Damian could be a little shit sometimes, but Dick was trying, okay?) if asked to check on his youngest brother. He'd take an early shift so he'd be able to drive to Gotham after lunch, then spend the afternoon with Damian. 

But now? Now, Dick was anything but excited, not when it was both Jason, and Tim who'd called him saying about how Damian had been impersonated. 

So now here Dick was, outside Damian's room, trying his best not to think about the thousand possibilities that would happen if it turns out Tim, and Jason were right, and their youngest brother had been abducted (even if it was impossible because it'd be more likely for Damian to do the actual kidnapping) and replaced by an imposter. He took a deep breath. In, out, in out. 

He raised his hand to knock on the door. 

After five agonizing seconds, the door slid open, revealing an irritated-looking Damian Wayne. 

Dick bit his lip. Here goes. "Hey, Dami. Where's Jon?" 

"Grayson." The irritation disappeared. Instead, a semblance of a smile flickered across his brother's face. Dick discretely pinched himself. "Be - Jon's here. We're playing Monk-E-Monsters. I've beaten him five times already." 

"Did not!" came Jon's voice from inside the room. 

Damian pivoted on his heel to yell back, "Did too!" 

Dick couldn't help it; he laughed. This was his baby brother, alright. Besides, Jon would've known if Damian was an imposter. He might not be in the field for long, but he'd definitely know if his best friend wasn't his best friend. "Never change, you two." 

"Don't worry, Dick, I'll be cute forever. Then Damian would always be distracted when he plays Monk-E-Monsters against me!" 

Damian sneered, but Dick didn't miss the way the tips of his ears turned pink. Oh. _Oh._ Okay, maybe this was the reason why Damian's been acting weird. "Ignore him. If you need us, you know where to look. Make sure not to bother Titus too much." 

There's the Damian he knew. 

"Me?" He gave a mock-affronted gasp. "Never!" 

His brother rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It's good to see you, Grayson." 

Dick grinned, and reached up to ruffle Damian's hair, earning an affronted squawk, and a giggle from Jon. Maybe his hard work was paying off. Maybe Damian was really on his way to be a normal kid. 

_ 

Cass frowned as her brother pushed himself back up, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped from his temple. His stance felt off. "Who are you?" 

He paused. The silence became too defeaning. She clenched her hands into fists. Jason's warning flashed in her mind. _Don't let your guard down around him, Cass. Tim said he's still not sure if the brat is really the brat, despite what Goldie said._

All of a sudden, her not-brother's face broke into a smile. Her breath caugh in her throat at the easygoing action. The Damian she knew didn't smile like that. "I never could get anything past you, couldn't I, Cassandra?" He stepped forward. She held her ground, staring at him with narrowed eyes. "I swear on my life I'm your brother." 

"But not the Damian of...today?" 

Her theory was confirmed when he shook his head. "No. My partner, and I had been hit with a blast of magic about a week ago." Her eyes widened. "Don't worry, Father - from my time, at least, will find a way to fix this." 

She bit the inside of her cheek. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. "Time travel? From...from the future?" 

"Yes." Damian nodded. "Ten years from now." 

"And..." She furrowed her brow. "Partner?" 

"My beloved. Jonathan." 

"Oh." Her youngest brother would find someone in the future. Warmth flooded her chest at the thought. "Congratulations." 

Damian smiled the easygoing smile again. For a moment, Cass could almost see her younger brother, ten years older, in that smile. Humble. Mature. Less rough around the edges. "Thank you, Cassandra. I'd also be grateful if you wouldn't inform the others about our predicament." 

"Okay, little brother." She smiled back. "I won't tell them." 

_ 

"Maybe he's just having a bad week?" 

"Let me get this straight. He offered me cookies, and berated you for drinking coffee _because_ he's been havin' a bad week?" Jason scrunched his nose. "Make it make sense, Timbo." 

"Keep your voice down," Tim hissed, glancing over his shoulder. The waiters continued to bustle around the diner. Nobody was looking at their direction. 

Jason rolled his eyes. "Your paranoid ass knows no bounds." 

"You're one to talk - " 

"Guys, wait." Dick sat upright. "Hear me out." Jason, and Tim leaned forward in anticipation. "Maybe he's finally growing up!" 

"..." Two pairs of unimpressed gazes stared back at their oldest brother. 

Dick pouted. "What? Is it so hard to believe he's trying to look out for us?" 

Jason tugged at the collar of his jacket. "Yep." 

"You're heartless, both of you." Dick gave them his patented I'm Disappointed in You Look™, to which Jason, and Tim didn't so much as blink at because a) Dick had given them that particular Look™ loads of times already, they were practically immune to it, and b) Damian, frankly, had called them worse. "And mean." 

Jason ignored his brother in favor of tilting his head towards Cass. "Cass, our dearest sister, our badass princess, B's favorite child no matter how much he doesn't wanna admit it, you gotta tell us so we can settle this once and for all." ("'Once and for all'? Really? You're so dramatic, Jay," Tim muttered. Jason kicked him under the table.) Is it really the demon brat living in the Manor, or is it..." he trailed off into a pause for additional suspense, "a supervillain who'd shapeshifted into our demon spawn of a younger brother because she harbored a grudge against this godforsaken family ever since B turned her down at a party?" 

Dick gaped at him. "Where do you even _get_ those ideas?" 

Jason pretended not to hear the question. "Cass?" he prompted. 

Cass looked thoughtful for a moment. Jason, and Dick waited with bated breath. Tim murmured a quick prayer to the heavens. "...It's Damian." 

"Oh, thank god." Dick slumped back against his seat with a visibly relieved expression. 

"Good enough for me." Jason shrugged, reaching for his drink. 

Tim returned to his lasagna. "Yeah, same." 

_ 

"...can't do it!" 

"Yes, I can!" 

"No, you can't!" 

"Can too!" 

"Cannot!" 

"Can too!" 

Clark tuned out the noise (and Rao, does it sound weird when your twenty-one year old son, and his boyfriend have been arguing like a bunch of kids for the past four days) in favor of focusing on Bruce. "Zatanna, and Raven said it's time travel via mental transference. So, any ideas on how to reverse it?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I wasn't planning on a continuation right away, but I had a bit of free time, so I hope y'all like this chapter.

Tim was honestly _this_ close to believing Dick's theory ("Dami's growing up, okay? How else would you explain his sweet behavior?" Jason scoffed at their eldest brother. "If you think what he's doing isn't creepy, then I don't even know what the fuck to do with you - ") until it happened. 

He didn't mean to see it. Or freak out. But, like, only inwardly. Yeah, he didn't mean to inwardly freak the fuck out. He hadn't been getting eight hours of sleep in _years_ , so excuse him if he inwardly freaked the fuck out when he saw…whatever it was he saw. 

_"Jesus Christ on a lawnmower, Timbo, calm down,"_ a voice which sounds suspiciously like Jason droned boredly in his mind. _"I could feel you panicking from here. Look, just… calm the fuck down, and check it out again. But slowly. Capische?"_

Nodding to himself, he took a few steps back, making sure he didn't make any sound lest the demon brat's assassin skills noticed him. Oh, who was he fucking kidding, he was pretty sure Jon had already noticed him, what with his superhearing. But since Damian hadn't jumped out of the room to attack him yet… 

Slowly, Tim peeked inside the door for the second time. He did a double-take. He squinted. The scene didn't change. He could've sworn he'd had eight hours of sleep already, so there was no reason for him to be hallucinating, unless the Riddler had injected him with some fear toxin during patrol last night, which he hadn't. 

Right? 

He could see Jon, and the demon spawn sitting from across each other on the floor. Jon was saying something too far away to hear. 

His ~~nosiness~~ curiousity getting the better of him, Tim sneaked closer. 

"…trust me, okay?" 

"When have I ever not trusted you?" the gremlin snarked back. 

(Was it just Tim, or was the gremlin's voice not as snarky as it usually was?) 

"I could think of a few instances where you hadn't," Jon said, but his tone was light-hearted. 

To Tim's amazament, a pale flush began to appear on the demon spawn's cheeks. "Silence. We agreed to never talk about them, didn't we?" 

" _You_ agreed to, not me." 

"Shut it," the demon brat retorted with a scowl. The pale flush didn't disappear, and his cheeks seemed to redden ever further. 

Oh…shit. Tim's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. Was this why Damian had been acting weird the past few days? Because he had a crush on Jon? 

But it didn't make sense. Was Jon really too good for the world he suddenly made Damian not stuck-up, and not annoying anymore? 

He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost missed Jon's next words. 

" - sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or something. I was only teasing, I swear," Jon explained, giving a sheepish smile. Tim nearly melted on the spot. What he'd give to have a little brother as cute as Jon… 

"It's alright," Damian replied, though Tim could tell he didn't mean it. 

"D, I'm sorry. Please?" The demon brat didn't budge. Okay, remind him again how he got a brother as heartless as Damian? "Dami, please? As an apology?" 

Jon held out his arms, like he was…expecting the gremlin to hug him? Tim furrowed his brows. What the hell? The gremlin didn't do hugs. 

To his utmost surprise, the demon spawn merely heaved a loud sigh. He didn't even threaten Jon, or make fun of him, or… A horrified thought occured to Tim. Oh my god, was he actually going to do it? 

As if in slow motion, Damian scooted towards Jon. Jon wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to his side. After a moment, the demon spawn laid his head on Jon's shoulder. 

Tim's jaw dropped. 

Jesus Christ. The demon brat was willingly cuddling with Jon. The demon brat. Cuddling. With Jon. He wasn't heartless after all. 

In a panicked daze, Tim did only two things he could think of. He speed-walked the hell out of there, and called Jason. 

_ 

"They're dating," Jason drawled, reaching for the basket of garlic bread the waitress had placed on the table. 

Tim blanched. "Are you even... c'mon, Jon, and the demon brat? No offense, but do you remember who we're talking about? It's Damian, Jay. _Damian._ He isn't capable of wooing someone." 

His older brother calmly tore off a piece of the bread, like nothing news-worthy was happening directly under their noses, and why wasn't _he_ freaking the fuck out? "Give him some credit. Ra's may be a bitch, but he definitely must've taught the gremlin something if he managed to snag a goody two-shoes farmboy like Clark's spawn." 

The words registered in Tim's brain. "I'll believe it when I actually see it, because the hug sure didn't look like a boyfriend thing to me. Seemed more like a _the-gremlin's-finally-discovered-feelings_ thing, to be honest." 

Jason barked out a laugh. The sound echoed around the diner. Predictably, he ignored the furious looks thrown in their direction, while Tim tried his best not to sink in his chair. "You still salty about the you-know-what?" 

Tim straightened up at the mention of the _you-know-what_. He can't believe Jason had the nerve to say it to his face. "You wanted a video!" he hissed. "As proof - " 

"Because the demon brat scolding you for drinking too much coffee is too fuckin' ridiculous to believe - " 

"So is him dating Jon!" 

"Oh, yeah?" Jason pointed the bread at him. Tim glared at the offending pastry. "Then what the hell did you see? Care to explain, Timbo?" 

"They're friends!" he snapped. Jason continued to point the bread, now with the addition of a raised eyebrow, like _I can't believe you're falling for that crap, Replacement_. He could feel his eye twitch at Jason's audacity, but he ignored it in favor of protesting, "I cuddle with Kon all the time in a totally platonic way! Hell, you let Roy hug you, and you're not dating him!" 

"I swear to god, you're goddamn lucky I don't wanna kill you anymore, you sassy little shit." 

Tim's fingers itched to grab the basket of garlic bread and throw it at his brother's head. But he didn't, because it'd be a waste of garlic bread, and Bruce hadn't given him his daily allowance so he had to resort to taking a hundred dollars from his bank account to pay for the food. "Okay, because you wanna believe it so much, why don't _you_ explain to me why you think our psychopathic little brother is dating his best friend." 

Someone cleared their throat. "Excuse me, sirs. One of our customers had complained you were being too loud - " 

Tim turned to the waiter, plastering a fake smile on his face. "Yes?" 

"Mr Wayne!" The waiter's voice cracked. Jason whispered an _ouch_ that made Tim wince. The waiter quickly recovered. "It's nothing, sir. Sorry for bothering you." He gave an apologetic bow, and practically scurried away from their table. 

"Trust fund brat," Jason muttered, just loud enough for Tim to hear. 

Tim snorted as he finally started on his lasagna. "You're a trust fund brat, too." 

"But I ain't flashy about it." 

Tim, like the mature CEO he was, stuck his tongue out at him. "Whatever. Back to the demon spawn - " 

"If I tell you why I think they're together," Jason interrupted, cramming the rest of his garlic bread in his mouth, "will you stop you stop waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn to 'talk' about your shitty conspiracy theory of our "imposter" - and yeah, I used quotation marks because it's literally unfuckin' believable someone had kidnapped the gremlin and replaced him, seriously, who the fuck would be dumb enough to try to do that - little brother?" 

"You lost me at quotation marks." 

Jason narrowed his eyes. He seized another piece of garlic bread, and pointed it at Tim. "Fuck you." 

Tim continued to slice his lasagna into tiny, bite-sized pieces, well-aware of Dick wailing a horrified _Timmy, what are you doing??_ in his imagination. "Evidence first, and maybe I'll consider your offer." 

"Fuckin' fine." Jason violently tore the garlic bread in half. Tim resisted the urge to ask what it ever did to Jason. The garlic bread didn't deserve his violence. "I saw the demon brat kiss the other brat at the kitchen three days ago, okay?" 

Tim gave a non-commital hum. "Video, or I'm not going to believe it." 

"Fuck you!" 

Tim set down his fork. He stared at his older brother. "You didn't take a video." 

"Of course I didn't - " Jason looked offended. Good for him. "I wasn't exactly prepared to see our little brother with his tongue down the other brat's throat - " ("Jason, what the hell, TMI!" Tim would've choked on his lasagna had he been eating it) " - so there. You finally believe me?" 

Tim groaned. He didn't think he wanted to finish his lasagna now. The image of his baby brother making out with Jon was going to be seared in his brain forever. "No, I still don't believe you. But we're detectives. We're better than this, for Christ's sake. Why don't we just, I don't know, uh…" He paused, grappling for an idea on how to settle their argument; an idea which didn't include Bruce, and the rest of the family finding out what they were up to. "Why don't we just check the security cameras?" 

The garlic bread fell from Jason's hand. "Fuck. I can't believe I didn't think of that." 

_ 

Tim stared at the screen. He didn't know what else he'd been expecting. "He looped the feed. Of course he did." 

"And when has something like that ever stopped you, Replacement?" 

He bit the inside of his cheek. He raised his head to look at Jason, who was examining his fingernails as he leaned against the wall. "Hey Jay, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" 

Jason stopped examining his fingernails. "We barge in on 'em to catch 'em in the act?" 

"No." Tim shot his older brother an incredulous look. "I was thinking more along the lines of listening outside the demon brat's door." 

"Lame." 

Tim rolled his eyes. Was Jason seriously telling him he was lame because he was the only one out of the two of them who had morals? "Okay, fine. Why don't we listen in on them first, and _then_ we barge inside his room?" 

After a few seconds of silence, Jason pushed himself off the wall with a smirk. "Now we're talking."


	3. Chapter 3

Timbo's plan consisted of listening in on the brats for "suspicious activity" before barging in on them. If you asked Jason, it was pretty stupid. 

It wasn't stupid at first, since he even agreed to it, and he basically never agrees to stupid plans, but when there was no sign of any "suspicious activity" in the half-hour they've spent pressing themselves against the door, Jason had no choice but to admit what they're doing was currently pretty stupid. 

Plus, if any of the others walked in on them... 

He clenched his jaw. "Okay, they've literally been talking - and _only_ talking, 'cause I haven't heard any other suspicious noises - about the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow for the past fifteen minutes. That suspicious enough for you? Can we scare the brats now?" 

"Nobody's going to be scaring anyone until I say so." 

Jason narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. "Fuck off. Who died, and made you in charge?" 

He could see a vein twitch in the Replacement's temple as Timbo slid his attention away from the door to glare at him. "This was my plan - " 

"Which _sucks_ \- " 

"What are you doing?" 

They froze. 

Tim's eyes darted to the side, like he was subtly signaling Jason to _talk to him_ or some shit, the coward. 

_No,_ you _talk to him._ Jason stubbornly stared back, because like hell was he gonna let the Replacement boss him around. 

_You talk to him, and I'll owe you._

Jason arched a brow. _Ya sure?_

A muscle twitched in Tim's jaw, but he gave a curt nod. _Unfortunately._

_Fine._

Steeling his nerves because goddamn it was only Batman, what the fuck would he even need to be scared for, he took a crowbar to the head a gazillion times and _lived_ , bitches, Jason slowly broke eye-contact with Timmers, turned around, and met Bruce's gaze. "We ain't doin' nothing - " 

"Is the demon spawn dating Jon?" 

Jason gaped at the Replacement. "Excuse me, what the _fuck?_ You can't just ask - " Tim gave a casual shrug of his shoulders, as if saying, _I clearly did,_ and okay, he was _so_ going to have words with the Replacement later for being such a little shit. "Fine." Jason redirected his attention to Bruce. "What he said. Are they dating?" 

"No," was Bruce's immediate response. Jason crossed his arms over his chest. After a slight pause, the B-man added, "At least, I don't think so." Another pause. Jason watched Bruce sigh, and reach up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "They're dating, aren't they." 

"That's what we're tryin' to find out. Do you..." In a fit of peace offering because he and Bruce were on okay-ish terms now, aka both of them had been going to therapy and it was finally paying off, he gestured to the door. "You wanna join us?" 

Jason could feel his brother's judgemental stare boring on the side of his face. He could almost imagine Timmy screaming, _Jason what the hell are you doing??_ and him throwing his hands in the air, _I don't fuckin' know, okay?!_

To his relief, Bruce shook his head. "No, thank you. Just... please update me if they _are_ dating." After another slightly awkward pause, he added, "Good luck, you two." Without another word, Bruce continued down the hallway. 

Timbo broke the silence. "Hey, d'you think he noticed the demon brat's been acting weird?" 

Jason snorted at the question. "It's B. He can't have not noticed, which means your "imposter" - notice I'm using quotation marks again - theory's shit, because B would've interrogated the gremlin if he really wasn't the gremlin." 

They returned their attention to the door. 

_"...exactly what happened, Jon. He asked him about the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow - "_

Jason sucked in a sharp breath. "They're still fuckin' at it? Okay, I don't care if you wanna wait, Timbo, but I've had fuckin' enough." 

He reached for the doorknob, pretending not to hear Timmy's furious hiss of _"Jay, don't you dare - "_ , and pushed open the door. 

His gaze fell on the phone propped up on the desk in front of him. The gremlin's recorded voice continued to emanate from the device. "That little shit." 

_ 

Jason fumed as he dragged Timbo towards the kitchen. "Alfie, have you seen the demon spawn?" He wilted at Alfred's Disappointed Look™. It was definitely a thousand times more effective than Goldie's. "Sorry. Have you seen the baby bat?" 

Alfred hummed under his breath. "I believe he mentioned something about Master Jon, and Silver Lake?" 

Silver Lake. Okay. It wasn't too far. The drive would be fifteen minutes at most. Less if they took the Bugatti. Jason nodded to himself. He caught Tim's eye. "I'm gonna bring - " 

"No guns, or I swear to god - " 

"…That wasn't what I was gonna say."  
_ 

Obviously the restaurant couldn't compare to the diner - food, vibe, and all, the diner would always be #1 in Jason's heart - but it had a good view of the bookstore, which was its only saving grace because the bookstore was where the brats were currently hiding in. Earlier, Timbo had the brilliant idea to call his clone ~~boyfriend~~ bestfriend and ask him about the brats' location, something Jason wouldn't dare admit out loud he was grateful for, but inwardly, he was. 

"Timmy, give me a rundown of the weird things the demon spawn's been up to." 

No reply. Jason rolled his eyes. "Do I have to do everything 'round here?" 

Still no reply, save for the excited ramble Jason had been doing his best to tune the fuck out for the past ten minutes. 

With an irritated sigh, he set down the binoculars to grab a piece of napkin from the napkin holder, and a pen from his jacket. "Let's see. Case #1: scolded you for drinking too much coffee." 

He could still remember Timbo's near-hysterics when he'd called him, and the subsequent discovery of his location because Timbo wouldn't shut the fuck up. Good times.

"Case #2: waited for me in the kitchen to give me a box of Alfred's cookies, and told me to drop by the Manor for Sunday brunch." 

He shuddered at the phantom feel of the demon brat patting his arm, then walking off with zero (0) insults aimed at his well-being, etc, etc. Not a good time. 

"Case #3: didn't kill Goldie when he messed up his hair." 

Jason paused. He remembered how Dickiebird had suggested the demon brat was finally going through puberty because he hadn't murdered him for touching his hair. Maybe Timmy could add it to his theories? (God forbid.) Whatever. 

He cleared his throat as he skimmed the list. "Case #4: Steph also told me he stopped by her apartment yesterday to hand her a month's worth of groceries." 

He wolf-whistled at the last point. Now _that_ was weird. Mainly because the gremlin never gave the family anything unless prompted, and according to Steph, she'd thought she was high as fuck when she opened the door, and saw the gremlin on her doorstep. "Goddamn, it really does sound kinda suspicious when we put it like that, don't we?" 

Timbo made an affirmative noise that he barely caught over the rambling of the fanboy who was still invading their table. Seriously, would it kill the Replacement to reject his adoring fans? 

Grumbling to himself, Jason raised his binoculars again. "Oh shit, they're back. Are they holding hands? Yep, they're holding hands. Timmers, grab your phone - " 

"I can't, I'm a bit busy - don't mind him, he's a family friend." 

Jason lowered the binoculars to shoot his younger brother a dirty look. Timmers either didn't appear to have noticed, or was outright ignoring him in favor of fussing over his - _eugh_ \- fanboy. "It can't be fuckin' hard to hold a phone - " 

"Then why don't _you_ do it?" 

Fuck, he'd walk right into that one. 

After some more grumbling, and pretending he couldn't see the Replacement's fanboy's wide-eyed stare, Jason managed to fish his phone from his pocket. He focused on the pair of brats. They seemed to be deep in conversation, all whispering and shit. He watched Clark's farmboy spawn pull his hand from their hand-hold shit to drape his arm around the demon spawn's shoulders - 

"What is that?" Timbo's voice hissed in his ear. 

He swore, nearly dropping his phone. "Timbo, what the hell?!" 

"It's not even a good angle!" Before Jason could come up with a reply, the Replacement had wrapped his hands around his precious phone, and tugged it out of his grasp. 

He snatched his phone back with a snarl. (Okay, he didn't want to admit it, but the comment sorta hurt. Wasn't his fault his camera skills weren't apparently up to Timmers' weird-ass standards.) "What do _you_ know about good angles?" 

"I do photography, you ass - " Timmers tried to make a grab for his phone again. 

Jason held it out of his reach while pushing him away with his leg. Seriously, what the hell was the Replacement's problem? Who the fuck cares if the video's a lil' blurry? The important thing is they have some goddamn proof to present to Bruce. "Do I look like I give a shit 'bout what you do in your free time? For Christ's sake, stop being such a fuckin' perfectionist - "

Loud tapping startled them from their ~~brawl~~ argument. Brat #1, and #2 stared at them from the other side of the glass, unreadable expressions - okay, the gremlin's was unreadable, mini-Superman just looked plain curious and also confused - on both of their faces. 

Aw, fuckmuffins.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is maybe kinda having a mental breakdown. Someone please save him.

Forget Jason's the-demon-brat-is-dating-Jon theory, their youngest brother was obviously an imposter. Tim was 98% sure of it. How else would he explain the gremlin's sudden need to nag him to death about his choice of drinks when he hadn't even cared about it in the past three years Tim had known him? And not only that, but he also... he also... 

_He reached out for his iced coffee, but his fingers met thin air. Unperturbed because maybe he'd set it down a bit farther than he remembered, he continued to reach forward. Nothing._

_Furrowing his eyebrows, he raised his head from his phone. He blinked, unsure if the fear toxin Scarecrow had supposedly sprayed him with last night was starting to set in. Or maybe this was a side effect from eight hours of sleep? He blinked again. The scene didn't change._

_His iced coffee was gone._

_In its place was a strawberry frappuccino that had definitely not been there a few moments ago._

_"What the fuck."_

_Someone had replaced his iced coffee with a frappuccino. How the heck did someone manage to replace his iced coffee with a frappuccino? Why the heck would someone replace his iced coffee with a frappuccino?_

_"Tim! Do you like it?"_

_Body on autopilot, he turned to face the voice._

_Jon beamed at him. Tim resisted the urge to shield himself from the sheer brightness of Jon's expression. "Dami, and I were worried you've been drinking too much coffee, so we thought we'd get you a caffeine-free drink instead..." he trailed off with an embarrassed smile, reaching up to rub the back of his neck._

_Tim could physically feel the fight leave him at the sight of Jon's ~~precious must protect~~ smile. Logically, he knew he should get angry. But this was Jon. Kon would kill him if he got angry at Jon. Hell, Tim would kill himself if he got angry at Jon. Besides, they were only trying to help -_

_Wait a minute._

_He squinted at Jon. "Did you say the demon brat was worried about me drinking too much coffee?"_

_Jon gave an enthusiastic nod. "Yep!"_

_Tim had a sudden unwanted flashback of fingers gripping at the back of his shirt to stop him from face-planting on the tiles of the Manor. "Why?"_

_"I second that." He almost jumped at the sound of Jason's voice. His older brother threw himself at the seat from across him, a piece of bagel in hand. "You want some?"_

_Tim shook his head. "I'm good."_

_Jason shrugged, and took a bite of his bagel. "Suit yourself. So, what was it about the demon brat worried about you? It's, what? The second time this week?" He took another bite. "Miracles everywhere, and it ain't even your birthday yet." Tim opened his mouth to protest, because the demon spawn worrying about him was _not_ a miracle, but before he could get a word out, Jason's attention had already slid to somewhere behind Tim. "Perfect timing, brat. Are you purposely driving Timbo cuckoo with your weird behavior again? 'Cause we really can't afford to replace him if he suddenly goes nuts." _

_Tim had to stop the sudden impulse of grabbing his strawberry frappuccino and throwing it straight at Jason's face. Instead, he forced himself to relax. Calm down. Could he calm down? Yes, he could. Throwing his frappuccino at Jason would not only result in Bruce benching him for eternity, but they'd also get kicked out of Starbucks, _and_ would earn him a lecture from Alfred. Not to mention they'd probably be trending on social media tonight. He could imagine the headlines already: _Wayne Enterprises CEO Escorted Out of Starbucks; Isn't Sorry for Dumping his Drink on Mysterious Hot Stranger_ etc, etc. His fanboys would probably think he'd gone crazy. _

_...He was _not_ going crazy, dammit. He wasn't. Gritting his teeth, he whirled around to level the gremlin his _I'm-not-taking-any-shit-from-you-today_ glare. "I know the whole thing was your idea, don't even pretend to drag Jon into it. Remind me again why you just love to torture me so much?" Tim paused. "On second thought, don't answer that." _

_The gremlin looked at Tim like _he_ was the one who'd replaced his iced coffee with the damn frappuccino. "Drake, has it never occured to you that maybe I don't dislike you as much as I used to?" _

_Tim blinked. He felt his brain short-curcuit at the question. "I'm sorry, what."_

_Did the demon spawn just say what he thought he said? Judging by Jason's equally horrified expression, yes, yes, he did. He looked at the gremlin, who arched an eyebrow as if daring him to disagree (and if Tim wasn't feeling the beginnings of some sort of existential crisis, he would happily disagree with him, thank you very much) with his sentiment, then at Jon, who had a look of nervous apprehension on his face, then finally, back to Jason, who was mouthing something which looked suspiciously like _don't dislike you as much as I used to_ over and over again. _

_Tim raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Yeah, I'm out of here."_

"Replacement, I don't know what the fuck you're doing in there or if you're taking a shit or whatever, but if you ain't coming out in five seconds, I'm gonna kick down the door, and make you pay for the damages!" 

Tim ignored the furious pounding behind him as he splashed some water on his face. He could do this. He could face the gremlin like hadn't just locked himself in Starbucks' bathroom and had a kinda existential-crisis-slash-mental-breakdown in the span of thirty minutes, no problem. 

With a deep breath, he turned off the tap, dragged his feet towards the door, and wrenched it open. 

"Good, you're back." Jason glared at him, arms crossed over his chest. "I was worried you'd tried to drown yourself in the toilet." 

Tim, like the mature adult he is, gave his older brother the stink-eye. "Go away. Why are you here? Go away." 

"The barista said it's against company policy to occupy the bathroom for half an hour. It was either the manager called security, or I'd get you." 

Tim pressed his lips into a thin line. "Okay, fair." 

Jason clicked his tongue. "C'mon, the brats are waiting." 

He yelped as he was yanked out of the bathroom and suddenly hefted on Jason's shoulder oh Jesus Christ on a fucking unicycle this was _not_ happening - "Jason put me down what the _fuck?!_ " 

"Sorry, Timbo," Jason sing-songed. He didn't sound sorry at all, the jerk. Tim was going to make his life a living hell for the next three months. "Desperate times call for desperate measures." 

He screamed bloody murder. But only inwardly. He didn't think he could handle the damage control if somebody uploaded a video of him screaming bloody murder while slung upside down _shit was he hearing things or were those camera shutters -_

"Oi!" Jason barked; Tim couldn't help but wince at the loud volume. "You better delete that shit or I'm gonna track you down and sue you!" 

"Jason!" he hissed, trying in vain to twist himself out of his brother's hold. (He failed, obviously.) "Put me down, dammit! I have to tell you something!" 

It seemed he'd said the magic words, because Jason stopped in his tracks. Tim swore when his face nearly collided with Jason's ass. ~~Thank God it was soft Jesus fuck ew why was he even thinking about it -~~

"Fine," Jason finally replied. "But only because you're being such a whiny little bitch." 

The world righted itself. With as much dignity as he could muster, Tim brushed the nonexistent dust off the fabric of his pants. He pretended not to notice the stares of the other customers. "Takes one to know one, asshole." 

"Not so fast." Jason's fingers shot out to wrap around his wrist. "Whatcha gonna tell me?" 

Tim tried very hard not to roll his eyes. Really, he did. "I'm pretty sure my theory trumps yours. Why else would the gremlin say the L-word?" 

Jason looked at him like he was an idiot. Tim stared back. Jason stared harder. "I thought we agreed his weird-ass behavior was literally because he's dating Clark's spawn? And it wasn't the L-word, Christ, you're overreacting." 

"I'm not!" 

"Okay, y'know what?" Jason let go of his wrist. "I'm taking like a five minute break from this shit. Join me if you wanna have a smoke." 

Tim's eyes widened. He quickly grabbed the back of Jason's jacket. "Don't leave me with him!" 

But Jason merely twisted around to pry his hand off with an irritated eye-roll. "Fuck's sake, Timmers, you're a big boy. Just stab him back if he starts stabbing you. Capische?" 

Without waiting for a response, Jason stomped out of the establishment. The other customers continued to stare. After a minute of shocked silence, Tim had no choice but to slink back to the table. 

"Drake." The demon brat looked up from his magazine. Jon had fallen asleep, slumped against his side. 

_"Add it to the list of his weird-ass behavior,"_ Jason's voice whispered in his mind. 

Tim nodded, and mentally wrote down _Case #5: being soft around Jon_ and underlined it twice, then added, _Case #6: told me he didn't dislike me??? = peak weird behavior_ below it. 

So. He can't let himself be distracted. A blurry video (because Jason didn't know anything about angles) wouldn't be enough to convince anyone, let alone the World's Greatest Detective. He had to gather more evidence the demon brat was an imposter, or might be dating Jon. 

_"Maybe he's an imposter who's_ also _dating the goody two-shoes?"_ Jason's voice suggested. 

Tim physically recoiled at the thought. What the fuck no. 

_"Or maybe he wants to infiltrate the League through Supes' spawn?"_

Tim hated the Jason in his head sometimes. "Yeah, but Cass said he was the real Damian. She wouldn't lie about it. Your point's moot." 

"Drake?" The gremlin's voice startled him from his thoughts. 

He glared at the brat. "What?" he snapped defensively. 

"Are you...talking to yourself?" 

"No," Tim denied, like the denying denier that he is. 

"Hm." The demon brat pursed his lips. "Alright, then." 

Tim watched the demon brat turn his attention back to Jon. For a split-second, he thought he'd imagined the edges of his baby brother's lips quirk into a smile as Jon nuzzled his face in the crook of his neck. But the seconds passed, and the smile remained. 

Okay, this was getting weird. Weirder. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the imposter-who-is-also-dating-Jon theory was technically correct. Except Jon would've immediately realized someone was impersonating his best friend, so he wouldn't have let his guard down around the gremlin in the first place. 

_"Timbo, wait. Hear me out. What if they're_ both _imposters?"_

Tim really, really hated Conscience-Jason. And where the hell was the real Jason? Muttering under his breath, he took out his phone to send Jason a text because it's been more than five minutes already, where _was_ he? 

After a few seconds of typing and deleting and retyping the message since he didn't want to come off as an even more paranoid version of Bruce, he set down his phone. There. That should do it - 

The table vibrated. He froze. The brat slowly broke eye contact to look at the phone charging innocently beside his plate of croissants. Tim could feel the sweat bead on his forehead at the sight of a very familiar message plastered across the brightly-lit screen. 

_Have another theory about the demon brat's weird behavior. meet me at the 711 outside in five. i'll tell him i'm buying pads for steph_

Tim swallowed. He didn't dare make eye contact with the gremlin again _Christ why did his life have to be like this, it had to be the eight hours of sleep -_

"I'm back, bitches!" 

Tim immediately shot out of his seat to drag Jason away from the table. "Let's go." 

Jason gave their intertwined hands a flat look. "You do realize I just literally got here, right?" 

Tim gritted his teeth. "Steph asked us to buy some pads for her." 

His older brother's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Okay...?" 

"She asked us to buy some pads for her," he emphasized, trying desperately to communicate, _Please save me_ through his gaze alone. 

"Okay...?" Jason repeated. 

Tim wanted to bash his head against the table. 

"She prefers overnight pads, if you must know." 

Tim's homicidal urges skidded to a pause. He let his eyes swivel to the demon spawn.

"What the fuck," Jason muttered, sounding thoroughly freaked out. "I'm not even going to ask how you know that." 

"Your convenience store appointment aside, Jon, and I are planning to watch a movie, but we need an adult to accompany us," the gremlin continued, like he hadn't just told them about the type of pads Steph uses, Jesus, how did he even know? ( _"Imposter!"_ Conscience-Jason hissed.) "Drake?" 

Tim forcedly pushed Conscience-Jason in the deepest, darkest corner of his mind. "Objection. Why me?" 

"Because I doubt Todd would want to watch a movie about the Joker," the gremlin retorted without missing a beat. 

Tim grumbled under his breath. "What makes you think _I_ want to see it?" 

"Shit, he's right." Jason's not-even-apologetic tone made Tim's eye twitch. "Sorry, you're on your own, Timmy." 

"Fine, whatever." He tugged at their intertwined hands. "Let's go, you asshole." 

_ 

"Do you think we should tone it down for a bit?" 

Damian watched as his older (younger? Tim was younger than him here) brother gestured wildly, almost hitting a passing civilian in the face, a somewhat manic gleam in his eye. He pointed at their direction, before seemingly realizing Damian was staring at them, promptly dropped his hands like he hadn't been doing anything a split-second ago, and dragged Jason out of sight. "No." 

The warmth on the crook of his neck vanished. "You're evil." 

With a non-commital hum, he turned his attention back to Jon. "I will neither confirm, nor deny the statement." 

Jon's amused expression twisted into a frown. "We really can't tell them?" 

"No." 

The frown on his beloved's face deepened. "What about your dad?" 

Damian arched a brow. "Do you want a repeat of the last time we told him we were dating? I doubt his reaction would be different in this timeline." 

_He stared at the wad of cash his father had pulled out of seemingly nowhere. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jon's mouth flapping open much like a half-dead fish gasping for air. "What...is this?"_

_"It's for your date."_

_"What do you mean our - " Damian quickly elbowed his beloved to shut him up. "Nevermind," Jon wheezed out. "Thanks, Mr Wayne."_

_If Father noticed how strangled the words came out, he didn't mention it. "You're welcome, Jon."_

_Jon was literally vibrating as he accepted the cash with trembling fingers. He fumbled for his wallet until Damian took pity on him, and pulled out his wallet from the pocket of his jacket. Jon gave a nervous chuckle. "Thanks, D."_

_Damian let Jon link their fingers together, and was about to drag him out of his father's study when Father cleared his throat._

_"Boys, wait." He pulled out yet another wad of cash. "For the tickets."_

_Damian didn't quite gape at his father, but it was pretty close. "You already gave - "_

_"That's for the food." Father nodded at Jon. Numbly, Damian stepped forward to accept the cash held out. (He didn't have the heart to say he had already brought his own credit card.) "Be back before six. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."_

_Jon seemed to snap out of his trance faster than Damian, because he straightened up to shoot his father a poor immitation of a salute. "Yes, sir!"_

_Father nodded approvingly. "Good. Damian?"_

_Damian swallowed his protest. (He knew his father threw around his wealth like it was nothing, but he didn't expect it to reach such limits like funding their...date.) "Understood, Father." Then, after a slight pause, and an expectant look from Jon, he added, "Thank you."_

__

__

_"You're welcome," Father said. A beat passed. "Son."_

"'Least he was being supportive." 

Damian leveled his beloved a dirty look. "He gave us The Talk when we returned. It was the worst three hours of my life." 

"Hey, he only wanted us to be safe." Jon picked up a croissant. "Make sure I wouldn't accidentally break your spine during - y'know." 

Damian rolled his eyes, but he knew Jon knew it was fond. "For the record, it's not as if I've injured myself on the few times we've indulged each other before he gave us The Talk." 

_ 

"Hey, Jay. Jay. _Jay!_ " Tim yanked at the sleeve of his older brother's jacket, subsequently ignoring his loud curse as the box of pads crashed to the floor. "Please tell me I didn't agree to chaperone them on their date."


	5. Chapter 5

The moment her youngest brother joined her at the island counter, Cass knew something was off. After a few more seconds of careful observation, it clicked. He no longer held himself the way he did before about a week ago; no longer had a quiet air of self-assuredness, fond exasperation, and the subtle quirk to his mouth like he knew a secret no one else didn't. 

Instead, the shift in his posture was replaced by something familiar. Arrogant. She tilted her head to the side. "Little brother. You're back." 

"Tt. Fortunately." He clicked his tongue as he speared a slice of pancake. "I do not know what I would've done had Kent, and I ended up spending another week trapped in those wretched bodies." 

She gave a non-commital hum. The way he bit out the last words made her think he wasn't in the mood for questions. "More syrup?" 

"Yes." 

She arched a brow. "Yes?" 

The scowl fell from his face. "Please." 

With a nod of approval, she handed him the bottle. 

_ 

Dick raised his hand to knock on the door. 

"Come in." 

He stepped inside the room, spotted his little brother at his desk, and immediately bounded forward to pull Damian into a hug. "Dami! I missed you!" 

As expected, his youngest brother instantly began trashing in his grip, but unfortunately for Damian, Dick had a lot of experience with siblings (and family, in general) who weren't the hugging type. 

"Unhand me, Grayson! I am not in the mood for prolonged skin contact - " 

"You didn't seem to protest when I ruffled your hair days ago," he retorted cheekily, but ultimately let go, if only to calm his baby brother down. 

It didn't. If anything, it only seemed to make him even angrier. "Do not speak to me about - " 

Dick held up his hands in a gesture of mock-surrender. "Sorry." He sent his youngest brother his best apologetic smile, paired with the puppy-dog eyes he often used on their other siblings. "Please forgive me?" 

Damian smoothed back his shirt with a slight sniff. "Apology accepted. Now, what did you need me for?" 

Dick barely managed to restrain himself from chuckling at the sliver of annoyance in Damian's voice. Ah, puberty. "Alfred's looking for us. He made a batch of your favorite cookies - "

_ 

For the record, Jason thought the brat had changed, okay? There was a list. All the points lined up - from scolding the Replacement to handing out groceries to Steph. Fuck's sake, he even went on a date with Supes' spawn - who, if Timbo had to be believed, was an embodiment of goodness and peace and the American way, blah, blah, blah, long story short, everything Jason wasn't. You couldn't blame him for _not_ believing it. 

Which was exactly why he should've been more ~~paranoid~~ suspicious. Because the whole Damian-changed-because-he's-dating-his-BFF shebang was way too fuckin' good to be true.

"Todd." A faint sense of déjà vu settled in the pit of his stomach when the demon brat jumped off the island counter, box of cookies in hand - 

Only he didn't give it to Jason. 

The fuck? Jason blinked, and quickly retracted his hand, trying his best to pretend he hadn't been reaching for the cookies he was like, 89% sure the demon spawn was gonna give him. Which he didn't. So, Jason straightened up instead. Tried to play it cool, 'cause he was the Red Hood, and the Red Hood should always be cool, and all that shit. "Where's your BFF?" 

"Why do _you_ care?" 

He blinked, caught off-guard at the aloofness in his baby brother's voice. "Do I fuckin' need a reason to?" 

With a loud huff, the demon brat pushed past him to stomp out of the kitchen, muttering about stupid brothers and best friends. 

_"Best friend?"_ Timmy piped up. _"I thought Jon's his boyfriend?"_

_"Well, yeah."_ Jason bit the inside of his cheek. He narrowed his gaze at the gremlin's back as he disappeared from view. _"Isn't he?"_

_"Beats me."_

Wasn't the gremlin all sickeningly-sweet with Brat #2 yesterday? What the fuck happened? 

_ 

Tim stepped inside the parlor, humming under his breath (who knew another eight hours of sleep worked miracles for someone's sanity?), only to stop in his tracks at the sight of his baby brother on one of the couches, attention fixed on his phone, an empty box of cookies on his lap. 

And because Tim was ~~in a very good mood~~ a very good older brother, he made his way to the demon brat instead of heading to the kitchen for some breakfast, and plopped down the couch beside him. "Hey, gremlin. How was the rest of your date?" 

Damian raised his head from his phone to arch a brow. "What on earth are you babbling about?" 

Tim blinked at him. His good mood was immediately on the verge of evaporating at the brat's haughty tone, but he forced himself to inwardly take a deep breath, and not do something stupid like shove his youngest brother because he was an adult with manners, thank you very much, and it was only eleven o' clock in the morning. "Geez, no need to get so defensive. Anyway, did you kiss him?" 

The gremlin's eyes widened. "Again, what on earth are you babbling about?" Tim stared back expectantly. C'mon, the brat honestly wouldn't tell him the details after he oh-so-graciously wasted two hours of his life to chaperone his movie date? Tim was hurt. As if on cue, the gremlin made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. "If you don't have anything else to say, then keep your mouth shut, or find another room to skulk around." 

Before he could shoot back a retort, the demon spawn had returned his attention to his phone. 

"Huh." Tim pulled himself to his feet, and proceeded towards the kitchen. "What's wrong with him?" 

_"Dunno. You could ask Jason."_

Tim furrowed his brows. "I'm already talking to you." He spotted a plate of pancakes on the island counter. A bottle of maple syrup sat beside it. "Nice." 

He could almost hear Jason click his tongue. Tim ignored him in favor of grabbing a fork, and pulling the plate towards him. He began to pour the syrup on top of the pancakes. _"Not the me in your head, Timbo. Me-me."_

"Oh yeah." Heat rose to his cheeks. He quickly set down the maple syrup to start on his pancakes. "That's what I meant." 

And because it was also very good morning, his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket to answer the call. "'Lo?" 

"Replacement, meet us at the diner, ASAP." 

"Bu - " With a considerable amount of effort, he swallowed. "Pancakes. I'm still eating - " 

"Bring 'em with you. Diner, Timmers. _Now._ " The call ended. 

Tim shoved his phone back inside his pocket to return to his food. _"Bring 'em with you. Diner, Timmers. Now."_ He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Can't do anything about it if I don't want to go." 

_ 

"Since we're all finally here," Jason said, putting a huge empasis on the word _finally_ ; Tim made a show of being very interested in his lasagna, "I'm gonna start the meeting." He looked around the table, and gave a dramatic pause. "They broke up." 

Dick, in the middle of picking up the basket of breadsticks to pass to Cass, arched a brow. "Who?" 

Jason shot his older brother an irritated glare. "Well, maybe if _someone_ hadn't been late, you would've already known hours ago." 

Tim continued to be very interested in his lasagna. 

Dick waved an impatient hand. "But he was, so there's no point arguing about it. Just let it go, Little Wing."

 _"Just let it go, Little Wing,"_ Jason mimicked under his breath. Cass discretely kicked him under the table. "Shit, sorry." He raised his voice. "Who fuckin' else d'ya think broke up, Dickiebird?" 

Dick looked between his brothers. He furrowed his brows. "Um, Tim, and Kon?" 

"No, our baby brother, and his all sunshine-and-shit farmboy," Jason snapped. 

Dick dropped the breadsticks. They scattered around the table. Nobody made any move to pick them up. "They're _dating?!"_

Jason threw his hands in the air. "Didn't I just say they're done?" 

"But _why?_ " Dick looked like Jason had ordered him to sacrifice his firstborn child. "What happened?" 

"Ask Timbo." Jason jerked his thumb at Tim's direction. "He chaperoned their date." 

_"He chaperoned their date?!"_ Dick's voice rose an octave higher. 

"Yep." Jason leaned back against his seat, looking like a cat who got the cream. "But he didn't take a video, so I'm not sure if we should really believe - " 

Tim stopped pretending to be interested in his lasagna. In a flash, he'd grabbed the nearest breadstick, and threw it at Jason. "I _told_ you to stop mentioning - " 

"Why the fuck should I when you literally had one job!" Jason retorted heatedly. The breadstick had bounced off his forehead, and landed on the floor. The couple from the next table shot them nervous looks. Cass calmly picked up the breadsticks scattered around the table. "It was _one_ job, Timbo! _One job!_ " 

"Both of you, stop it!" They shut their mouths, staring at Dick with wide eyes. Dick turned to Tim. "Timmy, my genius baby brother, did anything happen on Dami's date that might've caused him to break up with Jon?" Dick asked in an uncharacteristically sweet voice. 

Tim almost shrank in his seat as he shook his head. 

"Then why did they break up?" 

Jason, who had recovered faster because like hell was he gonna let himself be intimidated by their oldest brother, scoffed loudly. "Jesus, Dickiebird, why don't you just ask the demon brat?"

_ 

Obviously it was Jason who ended up confronting said demon brat because he had the shittiest luck when it came to rock-paper-scissors. 

"Oi, gremlin," he called out, dragging Timbo with him inside the parlor. "Did you break up with the other brat? Timbo here thinks you did 'cause you've been acting all prissy and shit again. Well, even prissier than normal, so. Did you, or did you not?" 

The gremlin raised his head from his sketchbook. "Honestly, Todd, if you think Kent, and I are together just because we've - " he stopped. A weird look crossed his face. For a moment, Jason was genuinely worried he might've broke his youngest brother. Then the moment passed, and he returned to not giving a fuck anymore. Not when the demon spawn suddenly looked like he was five seconds away from murdering someone. "You don't know." 

It sounded more like a statement instead of a question. Jason exchanged a confused look with Timmers. They continued to stare at each other, because what the fuck does he mean, _they don't know?_ before Timmy cleared his throat very loudly. "What don't we know, brat?" 

"That Kent, and I were displaced through time." 

Jason whipped around to gape at the demon brat. "You were fuckin' _what_ now?!"


End file.
